


It's a small world

by eldell (georgieteddy)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23636014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgieteddy/pseuds/eldell
Summary: Sometimes what is around you is all there is.
Kudos: 1





	It's a small world

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first ever Doctor Who story that actually made it through the process. As with most of my stories this just happened upon me one day. I don't know where it came from but I hope you'll enjoy nonetheless.  
> Thanks to johnsarmylady and jack63kids for beta reading and everything else!  
> Originally posted in 2015 on ff.net.

She wakes up in a small room. She doesn't know where she is or how she got there. Nor can she remember her own name or anyone else's. Her life, her family, her friends — all memories are gone.

She feels all alone in the world. And the world is this small room. She doesn't know what dangers lurk outside, can't imagine the world behind this closed wooden door. In fact, she isn't even sure there is more to the world than what she can see in the small gleam of bright light or feel under the tips of her fingers: four walls, a door, a small window high up, a bed with rough linen.

She falls asleep and wakes up several times. Nothing changes in her world and she accepts that this is what she has always known. She stops believing in an outside world, the idea a fading memory. She wonders if she is the only being in existence but she doesn't entertain that thought for long. It hurts to think.

Her dreams are colourful dreams. Lights are flashing. She sees something blue out of the corner of her eye. Yellow, red, green, purple, orange. When she wakes up she wonders briefly how she knows all those words when her world consists of nothing more than shades of brown and grey.

She feels anxious about dreaming. She hears all these sounds that she can name; and she connects feelings to the sounds, too. But she can't remember how she knows. There is a deep rumbling in her dreams, whooshing, screaming. She's not quite sure if it's her screaming. And if it isn't her, who is it? When she wakes up she knows there are no other beings in her world and it must have been her.

Her hands glide over the fabric of the bedspread. She wants to explore every small detail of her world. The wood feels smooth under her touch. The grey walls are rough and some places tear the skin on her hand. She cannot reach the window. She gives up wondering whether she could see anything from up there.

The next time she wakes up she hears something close by. There is a noise that she can't identify. The light has dimmed and she can barely make out the rectangular shape of the door on the opposite wall. Something moves behind the door. She feels a surge of fear and excitement. There must be other beings. Are they like her? Are they different? The longer she is confronted with the noise the clearer she can distinguish between different voices. Voices, she thinks, and remembers the concept of people using speech to communicate. She remembers people. There must be people behind the door, talking to each other.

She can't decide which perception is more prominent: the creak of the door opening or the flash of light from the other side. It leaves her blinded and she closes down as many of her senses as possible. She becomes aware of a voice, louder now than before, but she doesn't understand what it is saying. She carefully and slowly opens her eyes. The fuzzy shapes in front of her merge and mingle and finally she can make out three shadowy forms standing in the doorway side by side.

She is not happy with the newcomers. She used to know everything in her world. Granted, it was a small world but it was hers and hers alone. Now there are three fuzzy forms shifting in front of her and she can't make head nor tail of them. They are not like her, so much she can see. They keep on shifting in front of her eyes, changing colours, too. They give her a headache. Or did she have that before?

She flinches when the creatures step into her room and come up to her bed. She tries to shoo them away but they won't leave her alone. She doesn't know why she is afraid of them but she is feeling unsafe to a degree that makes her shiver. One of the forms reaches out to her with his ... It doesn't matter what those are called, she decides. The shadow connects with her skin and she feels like she's not existing at all. Something is pushed into her neck and she gives a small yelp before drifting back off to sleep.

When Donna Noble wakes up in an armchair in the TARDIS library she decides to cut down on alien drinks for a while. She feels like something has been taken from her but she can't remember much of the dream she had. She gets up to make herself a cup of tea and find the Doctor — the room that has made up her whole world already fading from her memory.


End file.
